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by shirine



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirine/pseuds/shirine
Summary: We all go round and round, and it never ends.





	1. Prologue

  Distance.

 

  Far or near, things have a distance. Far or near, people have a distance. Far or near, places have a distance, and lastly, far or near, the ties that bind others have a distance. The only difference is how short or how far the distance is; the shorter the distance, the nearer, the further the distance, the more distant things, people or bonds seem to be.

 

  There is a song that only a few people seem to know, but the lyrics change each time one sings it. There is a song that is supposed to be so ancient that to those who know it, it is as sacred as holy texts. They keep the song close to their hearts and they look at the sky whenever they sing it, as if hoping and wishing for the gods above to hear it and to grant them especial favor. The only similarity is that they sing it when the moon is full and bright, shining luminously in the dark sky. When the night is cold and when they feel very, very alone, they sing. They hope. They pray.

 

  The bespectacled senator pushed up his glasses and looked at the moon before adjusting his coat close to him so as to not catch wind. He was standing outside a cottage in the woods, right next to a well, and he thought of singing that song. The man beside him, a woodcutter, sighed heavily and raised his head to look at the moon too as if that was the only thing that ever mattered in the world.

 

  “There was a song,” the blue-haired woodcutter said, “that Mother taught me.”

 

  The senator said nothing.

 

  “I mean,” the woodcutter continued, “I know that it was a long time ago, but whenever the end of the month comes, the full moon’s there whenever the clouds aren’t blocking it. At nights like those, I just imagine that Mother is there, singing it to me at night, but of course…Mother’s not there, so I have to sing it myself.”

 

  Senator Twiright ran his fingers through his hair. “The Prophet, is it?”

 

  “The Clockwork Lullaby was what she called it,” Adam Moonlit said, resting his axe against the walls of the well. “Actually, why am I even telling you this? You know it already.”

 

  “The lullaby? Of course I know it.” A laugh. “I knew it earlier than you did.”

 

  “That can’t be,” Adam protested slightly. “There are so many versions. How do you know which-“

 

  Seth Twiright only smiled up at the moon.

 

  “There’s only one, Adam.”

 

 


	2. singing in the rain

CHAPTER 1  
singing in the rain

 

May, BT007

 

  “One plus sixteen is not twenty-nine, Moonlit.”

 

  “I…!”

 

  Advanced calculations are wonders to work on, especially when one knows the formulas by heart to the point where it’s something to be proud of, but one slip in the basics can make someone into a laughing stock. At this point, 15-year-old Adam Moonlit was made a laughing stock before his class by the veteran professor, Dr. Seth Twiright, simply for making a careless addition mistake. If Seth could’ve overseen that simple mistake, then everything would’ve been well. Adam’s classmates were snickering at the back until Seth tapped at a paper with the end of his red pen.

 

  “And you, right over there. How much is it when you divide eight with two?”

 

  A student at the back confidently answered: “Four, sir!”

 

  “You wrote _six hundred and three.”_

 

  That only earned even more snickers, and the student, embarrassed, sat back down on his seat.

 

  “Listen up and listen well,” Seth said. “Any more mistakes like these and you could cost your entire piece of work. Careless mistakes are not allowed under any circumstances. If you can afford to make these in your tests, I doubt that any of you could be trusted with any level of work that you will attend to in the future, should any of you become scientists.”

 

  The whole classroom fell silent. That’s the price one has to pay for not double-checking properly. Getting overconfident could cost them a lot and they knew it, but it was still hard to refrain from resenting the fact that they were being berated over something that they could’ve helped with, but simply chose to overlook.

 

  “These are _so_ simple,” he tutted, shaking his head in disappointment. “So, so simple. Prepare to do the corrections once you go home, and hand them over tomorrow. These will not create any additions to your current marks. Understood?”

 

  “Yes, Professor,” they said in unison.

 

  On the 21st of May, BT007, Class 1-A of the Higher Education Department of the Royal Institute of the Magic Kingdom, Levianta received their results on their third semester Physics test. It was a day like any other, but it was noteworthy for suddenly having everyone in class make careless mistakes when they answered it the previous week. Probably it was the stress of doing well in that particular test that made them overlook the most basic of concepts such as simple addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, but it was simply a feat to see the students master the most complex of equations whole jumping over what they learned when they were still too young to walk.

 

  Adam Moonlit was no exception; he was like the rest of his friends. In youth, there is carelessness.

 

  “Those who are staying back for the three o’clock supplementary lessons, remember to bring the books that I’ve stated on the list that I gave you a week ago. If you lost that list, there’s a copy right there at the board,” Seth said. “Do your work; I’ll be back at three for the supplementary lessons.”

 

  “Yes, Professor Twiright,” chorused the class, and the brown-haired man gathered his things and left.

 

  The Magic Kingdom, Levianta, is a kingdom unlike any other. It is a kingdom that combines magic and science together in a funny amalgamation that could somehow work and complement each other, and ruling above is a queen who has the power to speak to the powerful twin gods, Levia and Behemo. The people of the Magic Kingdom are intelligent and creative, and its center of learning, the Royal Institute, is the most prestigious of all institutes throughout Bolganio. The Magic Kingdom is the continent’s Alexandria, one that has not burned so far.

 

  As Seth Twiright walked the halls of the education wing of the Institute, he took it easy in a sense. His steps were light although his mind was heavy with thoughts, and he wore a calm smile on his face that was readily received by anyone who greeted him as he passed by. He wasn’t the only one who was a senator cum scientist; there were scores like him, yet many people knew that among all the senators in the Senate, he was by far the most persuasive. He could turn heads with a single word and overturn the government if he so wished, yet it wasn’t really a priority for him. Politics was something that he was particularly good at, but he didn’t really wish to partake heavily in them when the time wasn’t right. It was only fair and logical that he didn’t participate among the senators that ended up throwing chairs at each other after a few disagreements here and there for live television to show.

 

  What he was more interested in were the abnormalities that were present in Adam Moonlit.

 

  It was almost unnatural, the way that Adam was progressing as a person. He was so much like his mother – intelligent, perceptive, shrewd and self-served. It was only Seth’s third time teaching Physics at Class 1-A of the Higher Education Department, but he could already see the various traits that the young boy embodied. At one point a year ago, the boy confidently told his friends in the middle of a trading card game that a famous comedian on a show that aired on Channel 8 would inevitably (and those were his exact words: ‘inevitably, really, _inevitably…!’_ ) get married to a woman eight years older than him.

 

  He was right, and when his friends brought up the subject again this year, completely floored, Adam Moonlit only grinned smugly and gave off a triumphant air. A victory.

 

 _‘I told you so,’_ Adam said.

 

  There were other things; minor weather forecasts on exact times and a gaping loneliness that he could not fathom, covered up by layers and layers of obnoxious confidence and bravado. Sure, Seth could easily dismiss everything as teenage phases and glimpses of coincidences, because of course, if one were to watch that comedy show on Channel 8, one could come across that kind of conclusion if they knew the actor well. One could look at the sky and feel the wind and conclude that yes, it will rain, or one can just watch the weather forecast and act as if they know everything.

 

  This was the umpteenth loop.

 

  Seth Twiright looked at the list of students participating in the supplementary lessons, and lo and behold, he noticed something that gave him a strange feeling of relief.

 

  Adam Moonlit didn’t register himself.

 

 

 

  “It’s no wonder why you failed the whole thing, Adam.”

 

  “Shut _up.”_

 

  “Oh Levia, look at this…your equations are literally _spilling_ all over the lines. I don’t even want to read this, man.”

 

  Petulantly, Adam took back his paper and folded it up, not even wanting to see a single peep of it. _When I get home,_ he thought to himself, _I’m going to throw it so far that no one can even see it. I’ll smudge it up so bad that if anyone picks it up at the roadside, they can’t even see shit._

 

  Adam’s classmate, Vetra, looked quite irked. “Look, Adam, what’s the use of all the unnecessary equations? They never even asked. Are you showing off or something?”

 

  “It’s a simple question, but can’t you see how many possibilities you can go with this?” Adam said, almost complaining. “I’m not showing off, Vetra. It’s that whenever they ask stuff like _‘What’s the volume of this and that,’_ you can also try to find the necessary water pressure needed to crush the container should it be immersed in water. Then you can think of why would it be immersed in water, and then you get yourself a sub, and then-“

 

  “Okay, okay!” Vetra raised his hands. “Alright! That’s the mentality that got you a lousy **_31%!”_**

 

  “Bet he needs more power in his glasses to see the actual answer to the question,” Adam grumbled.

 

  “Anyways, are you staying for the supplementary classes?” Vetra asked before he twisted the cover of his water bottle open to drink some water. “Ah, that was good. Anyways, since you got marks below 80%, it’s compulsory for you to attend. You know that Professor Twiright is the best in the subject, so it’s a great opportunity to learn.”

 

  “I didn’t write my name,” Adam said, looking at his handheld console. His fingers were itching to play it, mostly because he needed a distraction. “I don’t need to be held back.”

 

  “Adam, your grades-“

 

  “I don’t need to learn more,” the blue-haired youth sighed. “I don’t need _more_ learning, Vetra. I know it already. I know. I don’t need to waste my time with stupid supplementary lessons, okay?”

 

  “Then if you don’t need them, it would be advisable for you to exit the classroom, Moonlit,” a voice – off-handed and emotionless – countered. At that, Adam and Vetra looked at the classroom door to see none other than Seth Twiright himself. It was already three o’ clock, and Adam felt his mouth go dry for some odd reason. This was one teacher who didn’t care, who didn’t give a rat’s ass about whatever he did, and that was something so strange that it seemed liberating and infuriating to Adam all at the same time.

 

  “What-“

 

  “The door is right there,” Seth Twiright gestured. “Out you go.”

 

 

 

  You might wonder why this is so fragmented.

 

  Life is a series of fragments. One scene plays out one after the other, just like a few cuts here and there. The cuts are so smooth that you really wouldn’t notice it as everything just passes by seamlessly, and then we’d call it a day. A day turns into a week, a week turns into a month, and a month turns into a year. An uncut movie, an ever-rolling roll of film.

 

  Whatever is happening to others was their own roll of film. Whatever was happening to Adam was his own roll of film. The first fragment of a day begins with him waking up early in the morning and getting to the shower. It ends at the shower. The second one begins with breakfast and ends with the end of it. The third one begins with him going to school and ends with him arriving, so on, and so forth. It’s smooth, it’s consistent, and it’s natural.

 

  A fragment began when he stayed in class, and it ended with Seth Twiright kicking him out. It was all well for Adam; he wasn’t going to complain, since he wanted out from the start. He walked the halls with his bag in one hand and his game console in another, and he sulked. _Stupid bastard. I’ve never gotten a score that low in my life. Grow a second brain to replace your first one, why don’t you?_

 

  Since he’s lived his life in fragments, he wanted to see which was the shortest fragment that can begin and end quickly. The concept of a fragmented life was Adam’s sole philosophy – the only thing that got him getting up in the morning and got him to sleep at night. You live one day and you die in the end of it. The cycle repeats, and when he got to the ground floor of the Royal Institute, he smiled to himself and thought: _it’s the end of another fragment._

 

 It was raining and the air was cold.

 

  He wanted to try something. He wanted to try something that he shouldn’t really try out, but he felt like he had to. He couldn’t do it when he was younger whenever the full moon was out, so why not try it when there was no moon to begin with? It wasn’t even night; it was a cold afternoon, and Adam put his game console in his bag before zipping it up nice and tight. He’ll try to sing the song that he’s learned somewhere to see if it works. He’ll just keep trying every day until he can finally sing it.

 

  Adam Moonlit took a deep breath and opened his mouth to sing.

 

  What came out of his mouth was absolutely nothing, as if he was just rendered mute. He pushed everything he could to try and make a single bit of sound, but there was no sound escaping his throat. He tried again; he tried mouthing out the lyrics or trying to cough in the middle of his attempted singing, but there were no sounds at all, not even sounds of a futile struggle. It was crippling, debilitating, but he forced everything he could. His voice was not with him. There were no sounds. His heart felt like it was going to rise up to his throat and spill out of his mouth, followed by the rest of the other organs in his body, but still, there were no sounds.

 

  There were no sounds.

 

  Warm air mixed with the cold. The rain wet his face, and he took another deep breath, clearly exhausted. Slowly, his voice returned to him, and he fell to the wet pavement on all fours, coughing out trails of saliva that mixed with the puddles of rain that flowed about steadily through his hands. He was sweating. His face was hot. His vision was blurry.

 

  He could not sing it after all.

 

  He could not sing it at all, actually. This wasn’t the first time.

 

  This was the end of yet another fragment, but this time, like all the times he’s tried, this wasn’t a smooth one.

 

 


End file.
